Not a Hero
by Khor Evik Vlakhavlakh
Summary: Jaune is a hitman. Weiss is a heiress. When he ruins the wedding she feared she would be forced into, neither of them thinks much of it. Only after shit hits the fan they realize just how entwined their lives have become as Jaune is hired by Ozpin to eliminate important targets and Weiss finds herself neck-deep into plots of destruction. She went to Beacon to find peace. Not THIS!


**_Hey everyone! I'm getting this off my chest and I'm in a hurry. Bye!_**

 ** _Anyway, enjoy the chapter._**

It was intended to be a wonderful day.

Weiss Schnee, despite being just seventeen, was about to be married in holy matrimony to Henry Marigold, the heir of the Marigold family business. Half the citizens of Atlas had been invited to the wedding of the Schnee daughter. Jacques Schnee stood tall and proud in his immaculate white suit, and Whitley Schnee, his youngest child and only son, was right beside him in a similar suit with just a bit more blue in the form of blue lining for the suit. Henry Marigold was smiling confidently in his black suit, the image of the perfect groom. And then there was the spouse.

Weiss Schnee looked absolutely stunning. Her angelic features were posed in a shy and virginal candour, her beautiful eyes half-closed and looking slightly downwards as if in shyness, and her soft snowy hair falling freely on her shoulders and back. She was dressed entirely in white with a typical and expensive bride-dress and veil. In her hands there was the traditional bouquet of white roses. White for purity, roses for love. Pure love.

What a joke.

Even he, who was at almost a kilometre away could see that the Schnee heiress looked about as happy of this marriage as him when he received the bills. Even through the scope of his sniper rifle, he could perfectly see her alluring lips slightly turned down in a frown, and her enchanting eyes were narrowed in barely repressed anger.

 _Avrei preferito che ci fosse il sole,  
e pi_ _ù confusione, più rumore,  
perché il silenzio poco ha da spartire  
con quel che devo fare._

The bride was walking down the aisle now, heading for the altar that would bind her forever to Henry Marigold. He lifted his rifle and followed the beautiful yet sad angel that was the spouse. With every step she seemed to turn even sadder.

 _Da qualche parte suona una campana,  
il mio momento si avvicina,  
tra due minuti si aprirà il portone  
e avrò la mia occasione._

The sniper took his eye off the scope and scanned his surroundings. He was on the roof of a tall building, tall enough to guarantee the shot, but not tall enough to stop him from jumping on other roofs should things go wrong. But he knew that wouldn't be the case: he was a professional, and this would go as well as the others. He knew it.

 _E che nessuno si permetta di chiamarmi eroe:  
l'ho fatto per motivi solamente miei,  
son troppo diverso dai vostri eroi,  
l'ho fatto per me, non per voi._

The sniper passed a hand through his blond locks, briefly closing his ocean blue eyes and taking a deep breath. This would be the peak of his career. One last kill, and then a different life with different choices and, hopefully, no regrets. His trained eye returned to his scope in time to catch the spouse's brief unhappy expression as she reached the altar and the groom smiled at her. A little too possessively, in his opinion.

 _E tu di certo non sospetti niente,  
sarai tranquillo e strafottente.  
Tu non ti puoi di certo immaginare,  
che è l'ora di pagare._

Jacques Schnee was grinning widely at seeing his own daughter forcefully married only for money. He had organised the marriage, after all. After she had lost the fight against the Schnee Guardian Mecha, she had been forced to do as her father said. And her father forced her to marry Henry Marigold, an arrogant prick from a rich local family with a decent business influence.

 _Ti aspetto qui perché te l'ho giurato,  
tu sei lo sporco che va lavato,  
le lacrime si sono fatte mare:  
ti toccherà annegare._

His scope moved from the truest definition of angelic beauty and grace to the truest definition of cold business and inhumanity. His finger hovered over the trigger, wanting to press it but knowing he needed to control himself. He needed to wait just a little longer, and then his operation would need to run flawlessly... like all his operations always went.

 _E che nessuno si permetta di chiamarmi eroe:  
l'ho fatto per motivi solamente miei,  
son troppo diverso dai vostri eroi,  
l'ho fatto per me, non per voi._

The priest stood in front of the two, ready to united them in holy matrimony like he was meant to, but his face looked forced. Pained. He probably knew how the young Schnee daughter had been forced into the wedding by her own father. But given the Schnee influence, he probably had no choice in the matter.

 _E voi nascosti dietro alle finestre,  
farò io quello che voi vorreste:  
vi mostrerò che cosa si può fare  
invece di strisciare._

The groom, Henry Marigold, was smiling triumphantly at his future wife, holding out an arm for her to take. Jacques Schnee's son, Whitley, was openly smirking smugly at Weiss, knowing fully well how little she wanted to marry the man before her. The young Schnee son was as ruthless and cold-hearted as his father. He would probably take over the SDC after his father's death. He would need to rectify that.

 _Così domani leggere sui giornali leggere che un bandito  
ha preso a calci l'ordine costituito  
e parleranno i corvi, i topi e gli sciacalli,  
e voi lì, ad ascoltarli._

And there was Jacques Schnee, the man who had ruined so many lives only for money, the man who had ruined his own family just for power, the man who was now forcing his daughter to marry at seventeen just for business interest. A horrible man that needed to die.

 _Poi ritorno al presente e ti riesco a sentire:  
ci siamo, lo so, che stai per uscire.  
Respiro profondo, mi metto tranquillo,  
si apre il portone… do inizio al ballo._

Before the priest could start, however, a sizeable hole appeared in the groom's head before the sheer pressure made it explode in blood, bits of bone and grey matter. Jacques Schnee turned, wide-eyed, in the direction of the sniper, only for he himself to get headshot, blood spurting from his barely recognizable corpse after his head had been pierced with a charged Fire Dust round. The crowd didn't even have the time to scream, because Whitley Schnee was next, a bullet finding his heart as he turned to flee. In the midst of it all, Weiss Schnee stood shocked, looking at the corpses of her family and would-be groom. No more shots were heard and the crowd finally fled in terror, screaming all the while.

 _E che nessuno si permetta di chiamarmi eroe:  
l'ho fatto per motivi solamente miei.  
Son troppo diverso dai vostri eroi,  
l'ho fatto per me, non per voi._

Weiss stood there, shocked and terrified, until she heard footsteps coming up from behind her. Her Huntress instincts kicked in and she turned around to face the newcomer. He was a tall man with wild blond hair falling over his sky blue eyes, dressed in a security uniform and with a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. The rifle alone would've been enough, but all her doubts were washed away as she looked into his eyes. Eyes full of regret, determination and grim hardness. The eyes of an assassin.

 _E non si tratta di coraggio, e neanche di paura,  
il fatto è che qui si è passata la misura.  
Son troppo diverso dai vostri eroi:  
l'ho fatto per me, non per voi…  
l'ho fatto per me, non per voi…  
l'ho fatto perché non l'avreste fatto voi…_

Weiss looked at him for a long time, and eventually he huffed and turned, letting her live despite having just killed half her family in a handful of minutes.

 ** _Wish me luck for my plane tomorrow._**

 ** _Until next time,_**

 ** _Khor Evik Vlakhavlakh_**


End file.
